The Narcissist and the Hater
by sophiagreenfield
Summary: AU. Spain x Prussia. Narcissism and hatred clash as Lovino searches for a way to save his brother from the clutches of infatuation, and Gilbert tries to come terms with his slow decline in the world.


Hey guys its Sophia. Thanks for checking out mine and my friend's new story. Its a crack pairing (Prussia x Lovino), I know, I know; its crazy, but hey I came up with the idea during an insomniac episode. So yeah... Please comment and review at your leisure (Constructive criticisms are always welcome). And I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, but if I did... oh the things I would do to them :-)

~Bargained~

With a small trunk weighing heavily in his hand; he stood lifeless, as wicked air berated his face in unison with Antonio's barrage of farewell kisses. Each strike of piercing wind and each kiss of affection propelled him toward the edge of acrimony.

"Now Lovino," the Spaniard said, interrupting his unwanted display of emotion, "don't be bitter; it's only for a month."

Glaring, Lovino gestured with his middle finger and stormed towards the awaiting carriage. He climbed in, and carelessly threw his trunk in a corner.

'Don't be bitter, don't be _BITTER_!' he thought, raging about the circumstances that had led him to this predicament. He had been the damn prize of a bet made by a bunch of intoxicated bastards at a game of cards. What was there not to be bitter about? Lovino knew he was only a servant, but he was NOT an object to be won by some perv he barely knew. Still fuming he looked out the window, watching Antonio and the albino freak, that had 'won' him, engaged in a very animated conversation. The Spaniard kept pointing to the carriage, and the Italian assumed he was telling the bastard not to forget to feed and water him. The dialogue dragged on, and Lovino dozed off from the wait. His slumber was discontinued when the carriage door opened and the freak climbed inside.

"Hello!" the pale bastard shouted in a thick Germanic accent, sitting down in the plush seat across from the Italian; signaling for the carriage to precede.

Lovino played the silent treatment, and refused to look at the potato eater.

"I said hello!" reiterated the German; waving a hand in front of the Italian's face. Refusing to indulge the bastard, Lovino continued to stare downward; fixated to the carriage floor.

"Awww, you don't want to talk to the AWESOME!" the narcissist sang out, "ME?" Finishing the sentence with a flourish of his hand pointing to himself. The 'prisoner' still refused; closing his eyes to solidify his point.

"Come on Lovi." whined the albino werido, shaking the Italian's shoulder rigorously to get his attention.

"My name is Lovino." The Italian growled, never looking up from the carriage floor. He may have broken the vow of silence, but he would never look at the bastard.

"You live!" the idiot proclaimed, celebrating with some idiotic dance, "Now let me tell you about the AWESOME ME!"

Thirty minutes later the bastard was still talking about himself, and Lovino was looking out the carriage window counting clouds; trying to keep the relentless boredom away. With in those thirty minutes of absolute torture the Italian had learned a number of things about 'the bastard'. First the freak is a narcissist, second the bastard is so much of a narcissist he has a bird named after himself called, Gilbird; which leads into point three, the bastard's name is Gilbert Beilschmidt, and fourth and finally the albino is a _Prussian_ NOT a _German_; a detail he repeated multiple times.

Lovino sighed, praying for anything to relieve his boredom.

"You know Lovi," the Prussian stated, "my brother has a servant that looks a lot like you."

This statement snapped the Italian out of the fog of boredom.

"What?" questioned Lovino, meeting the albino's shocking red eyes. "What did you say?"

"The awesome me stated that my brother, Ludwig, has a servant that looks a lot like you."

Lovino's breath caught, and his heart began to race.

"Do you know his name?" The Italian questioned, becoming increasingly excited. "Do you know the servant's name?"

"Of course _I _would know something like that." The Prussian said condescendingly pointing towards himself, "It was... Fred... no, it was Italian, I think is was Feli... something."

"Felicano." whispered Lovino.

"Yeah, that was it; Felicano." the potato eater said pointing in recognition to Lovino. The Italian could not believe it; his brother was working at this bastard's house. It had been six years since he had seen his brother. After their grandfather's death, when they were ten years old, the two brothers had been shipped off to various relatives; eventually to be separated.

"Hey Lovi do you know this Felicano?" questioned 'the bastard', staring expectantly at Lovino. The Italian considered what he was to say; if he said no he could easily turn this 'trip' in his favor.

"No." The Italian said curtly shaking his head; gazing out the window. Silence quickly enveloped the carriage, and the Prussian soon fell asleep.

Lovino schemed quietly, as the carriage shorten the gap between him and his fratello. His brain whirled full of evil ideas on how to kill the man sitting across from him, so he could free Felicano. Lovino through Gilbert's pompous and narcissistic attitude assumed that 'the bastard' would live in the cradle of luxury, an environment filled with wondrous objects just waiting to become his demise.

He would find every single delicate piece of finery, and knock it over to see it shattered. Perhaps he could use the shards as a weapon while this Prussian bastard snored away in the night. The Italian bet that the narcissistic bastard slept in a four poster bed, in sheets of silk, and on pillows of the finest down; pillows that would suffocate nicely with just the right finesse. If that didn't work, he could have the shard on him, just in case someone decided to be feisty and resist his inevitable doom. He would be ended by the broken pieces of his own Greed, spilling his blood over his precious bed linens. As liquid greed seeped onto the bed of lies, he would then take his fratello and run. Yes, yes, it was perfect. He would plan where they would run to when he crossed that bridge, but there were larger goals to finish first. Like this pompous, Germanic asshole.

The carriage jolted and his stupor of evil schemes, and malice ideas were snatched away. Leaving him alone with only the carriage window and the changing of the scenery. Was Feliciano okay? They'd been separated for years now, and it was a little scary to think of what he'd been forced to do to these sinister masters they were now both oppressed under. But they'd be together, even if his plans failed. Who was he kidding? His plan was fool proof.

However, his assurance was fleeting, as the bastard of the Prussian awoke. Damn! He was a light sleeper? Of course he was. Well that would definitely delay his actions, he would bide his time to think and perfect them. Then when the time was right, he'd strike, and steal away into the night with his dear sibling.

Yes, but his plan of perfection would have to wait, as the carriage turned into a long drive way.

"Welcome!" proclaimed the Prussian "to my AWESOME mansion."

Did he have to be so loud? Another silent treatment might be good, but he just couldn't bite his tongue.

"Are you shouting so soon after a nap? I'm right here, and I'm not deaf! Unless you're blind!" The brunette hissed sharply. The scenery and quiet scheming had put him in a mood that should not be disturbed by loud voices. The albino looked truly shocked at the lashing of words.

'Good' he thought 'serves that narcissistic, tyrant right'

However, the Prussian merely burst into laughter shortly afterward,

"Antonio mentioned you had some spunk to you~ Man, this is gonna be a fun month." Gilbert said, leaning forward to ruffle Lovino's messy auburn hair before stepping out of the carriage, offering a hand out to the Italian to help him down. As if he were a lady. Which, he was wearing pink, after all. It was a feminine color, he should know better than to leave himself so open for torment. He was just asking for it.

Lovino, trying to save his dignity, took a moment and thought. He then looked at the Prussian's outstretched hand, and pretended to accept the gesture with grand a gesticulation and flourish. The Italian watched closely; calculating Gilbert's facial expressions, and as soon as a smirk swept across the Prussian's face he struck. Slapping the impossibly white cheek.

Gilbert almost immediately let go, but pulled him out of the carriage with a bit of a tug, taking his hand back and rubbing his face.

"I'm sure you didn't treat your precious Antonio like this, go about slapping him. Now that was just rude, what kind of lady does that?"

"I am NOT a lady!" Lovino retorted; taking the liberty to shove the Prussian on to the ground, "and I will treat Antonio anyway I damn please, bastard."

"Well, you aren't Antonio's for the time being, you're mine." Gilbert said as he stood up. He then grabbed Lovino's arm and moving it backwards to where it was locked. "But I won't have you disgrace me in my home, is that understood?" Pain shot through his arm, and Lovino considered his position. Cutting his losses he gave a curt nod; shaking free of Gilbert.


End file.
